


Hurting

by oofandpeggy



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Self-Harm, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-05 23:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16376729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oofandpeggy/pseuds/oofandpeggy
Summary: Peter often hurt himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Self-Harm  
> I don’t think it’s graphic but if you get bothered by it please don’t read this :)

Peter often hurt himself. Patrol left him bruised and sore with marks that would disappear in the morning. It didn’t matter that he got hurt on patrol, he could heal fast and after Uncle Ben’s death, he was going to use his power to make sure that people couldn’t get hurt. The guilt and grief of his Uncle’s death and the fact that he could’ve done something hung on his shoulders like a weight and continued to motivate him to help more people.

Peter often hurt himself. Sometimes it was on purpose. His thoughts poisoned his mind and filled it with self deprecating bullshit that controlled his every move. He didn’t deserve any of the things he got; every nice thing in his life was ripped from his grasp and left him broken. That’s how he felt - broken. He had lost his parents and his Uncle and only had his Aunt left. Surely, he thought, she would be taken from him too. That’s how life seemed to be going: every piece of family he had left was going to seize to exist, leaving him to be alone and forever broken. No one was going to be there to pick up the pieces as whatever cruel thing was out there broke him until he wasn’t even able to see hope.

That’s how it started. He started to lose hope that his life was ever going to be okay again and maybe, just maybe, the pain would teach him that he was wrong. That’s how we learn things, right? We learn from the sadness and the pain and the mistakes that we make. It was only going to be a one time thing. That’s what he told himself. Just a little pain to teach him that it would be okay. Maybe it would give him a little hope that he won’t forever be broken. Just once and that’s it. Silence the thoughts for a while.

It wasn’t just once though. It was like a drug. The thoughts would always make a reappearance in mind, sometimes worse than other times, and he would always give in to their demands. It didn’t seem enough though. His damned fast healing would always heal before he deemed there to be enough pain or blood. The cut was never satisfying enough. That’s what led him to do more cuts in one session. He was hoping that the bigger the amount of cuts, the more satisfying the pain would be and the more likely he would see the spark of hope that he thought would miraculously appear in his life. That’s the mantra that continued in his head from then on. One more time and the light will suddenly appear. But, as time went on it never did. So he continued to inflict the wounds on himself most nights.

He didn’t tell anyone, why would they need to know? He wasn’t going to burden them with his thoughts and feelings - especially May, she already had so much to worry about, she didn’t have to worry about him too. Not even Karen knew as his fast healing would deal with it before he went on patrol every night. (the only thing he thought was good about his healing in his situation) That meant that Tony didn’t know either. Not that it mattered, why would Tony care anyway? It wasn’t like he was his dad or something. Anyway, he preferred dealing with his problems alone. He didn’t need anyone else to help him with this, it wasn’t like they knew how he was feeling.

He just continued on with his usual routine, masking his depression with a facade of happiness. If somebody asked, he blamed his solemn mood on the stress of school and homework (and if it were Ned, he would also blame it on the stress from all his Spider-Man patrols too.) However, he knew he was bad at keeping secrets - Liz had said it herself before moving to Oregon. Michelle didn’t look convinced whenever he used his excuse and even Tony asked whether he was okay. At the end of the day, he just thought that most people didn’t believe him but they didn’t care about him enough to do anything about it.

It just continued going downhill from there. Some days he was so fucking done with everything and he was sure he would never know what happiness felt like ever again. It’s not like anything or anyone was helping the situation. Flash still teased and bullied Peter and his taunts plagued his mind, convincing himself even more that maybe his life would never get back on track. Maybe the hope he was so desperately praying for every night would never make its return. Maybe the thoughts would never leave his mind and grant him the happiness he wanted so badly. Maybe the vicious cycle of the cutting would never end. Sometimes, he wouldn’t go to sleep. The thoughts would swarm his mind, listing multiple reasons why he shouldn’t go to sleep and why people shouldn’t care about it. Sometimes, he struggled to get out of bed in the morning but forced himself anyway. He couldn’t always give into their demands. He still had to continue living live like normal Peter. Maybe he would be like normal Peter again one day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was just another day. Another day of going to school. Another day of the teasing and the bullying by Flash that he pretended didn’t really bother him. Another day of answering questions even if he wasn’t paying attention. Another day of decathlon practice before going to the labs to work with Mr Stark. Another day of working on his webshooters and improving his web fluid. Another day of homework which he’d honestly prefer to not to do. Another day of cutting and making sure that they completely heal before putting on his suit and going on patrol. Another day of believing that nobody actually cared about how he felt. 

But somebody did care. Peter just didn't know it yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so late and for that I'm sorry. I started writing it and then realised that I still hadn't written my presentation for my speaking exam which is next week (wish me luck! I still haven't finished it lmao) so I have put this off for so long.
> 
> Anyway, this is it. It's not as long as I wanted it to be so maybe there will be another chapter? For now it's finished though :) Enjoy!
> 
> This hasn't been beta read (just yet) because I just wanted to get this out so there may be mistakes :) It'll probably be read by her soon so expect some edits of some kind because I usually make mistakes - English is not my strong suit in school lmao

Tony became fond of the boy that often visited him in the lab. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone. There was no doubt that Peter was a genius on Tony’s level if not even smarter than him. He was often impressed with Peter’s understanding and ability to even be able to keep up with him when he was working with him. So yeah, Tony would say, not aloud, that he loved the kid. (Maybe as a son. He’s just not willing to accept the fact he basically has a kid now.)

So, naturally, he noticed a difference in his not-son’s mood and attitude as soon as it started to change. Peter’s happy and excitable mood that was somewhat similar to a labrador was slowly starting to dissipate and each week the Peter that he had grown used was becoming more distant. That’s when Tony knew he had to step in; he couldn’t leave Peter to try and figure it out on his own.

Peter, however, was at the point when he was completely convinced that he was hitting rock bottom without anyone noticing. He was honestly starting to believe the thoughts that plagued his mind and fogged his sight on the world. He was clawing on the the float that kept him from drowning in the insanity of his own mind. Hope was running out like sand in an hourglass; running through his hands until they reach the bottom of his mind and forever forgotten. Soon enough, just a few cuts wouldn’t do it for him anymore. He needed more. He felt numb. The adrenaline of swinging barely made an effect anymore. Maybe he was truly broken.

He still enjoyed lab time with Tony though. He was away from the prying and judging eyes of the school halls and it was just him and Tony. It was one of the only times that the thoughts would temporarily leave whilst he focused on one of the things he enjoyed - science. But still, he would be sullen when he was reminded that nobody actually cared about him. That’s what the voice in the back of his head said anyway. It can’t be wrong, can it?

Tony didn’t know how to bring up the topic of why Peter seemed morose. Then again, whenever it came to emotions he was clueless. Struggling with his mental health problems himself (he was getting better though), he knew what it felt like when you feel like you can’t talk to anyone. But Peter used to be such a happy kid; his eyes innocent and sparkling with hope. He used to basically skip around whilst contently yapping about school and his friends and Aunt May. He just wanted to know what made Peter so sad all of the sudden. He was too young to have to deal with mental health problems like Tony. That’s something Tony desperately didn’t want for Peter. He didn’t want him dealing with the constant haziness in your mind as it felt as if your head was weighing down your entire body. He just wanted the best for Peter.

“Hey, kid?”

Peter hummed in acknowledgement, turning his head to look at Tony. God, look at the dullness in his eyes.

Tony wracked his brain for the right thing to say, almost stuttering his words as he did so. “Are you okay?”  
Peter paled as his eyes widened. It was almost like he wasn’t expecting someone to actually ask him that question. Like he had never heard it before. At least, no one asked him that question more than once. He stumbled over his words, trying to at least make it look like he knew what he was trying to say. He was okay. He didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t need anyone else’s pity.

“Kid,” Tony’s voice cut through the thoughts that raced through his mind, “I need you to breathe, okay?”

 _Oh shit,_ Peter thought, _I’m having a panic attack. In front of Tony. FU-_

“Pete,” his voice was there again, “Follow my breathing.” His voice was firm, almost grounding him as he attempted to breathe.

“There you go. I think that was my answer.”

Peter stayed silent, looking at Tony’s face before turning around and attempting to make an exit.

“No.” Tony almost shouted, grabbing Peter’s arm. If Peter really wanted to leave, he knew that he could easily get out of his grip - super strength and all. No? “Pete. Please?”

Peter just stared at Tony for moments before his resolve broke and he led out a sob as he fell into Tony. Arms were swiftly wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. Peter just cried into Tony’s chest while he murmured words of some comfort. Nothing else needed to be said. Maybe one day Peter would tell Tony about the cuts he inflicted on himself. There was no physical proof anyway - the scars were long gone. Maybe that’s a good thing.

_Huh. Maybe someone does care._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @leoneandpegs - you can talk to me on there if you want :)  
> I share it with my friend - her AO3 is piccololeone - pls check her stuff out x
> 
> pls leave kudos or smth I need validation


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